When I was a boy, I looked like Gollum

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When I was a boy, I looked like Gollum, but my treasure was a tide pool.

My head was wired to it with nerves the ocean had forgotten to keep inside itself. An anemone closed and I remembered Tuesdays. A crab moved beneath a rock and somewhere in my brain a small door opened.

Mother said I needed a haircut.

I said the sea would feel it.

We stayed there until evening, the pool and I, sharing one damp thought. Then the tide came in and took my childhood for a walk.

It still sends postcards: a pale shell, a little sea salt, the strange feeling that somebody underwater knows my name.